NOTHING teaches like experience. In those days – only a couple of weeks ago in real time though – when the almighty Nigerian National Petroleum Company Limited (NNPCL) sold premium motor spirit, PMS, at N617 in Abuja, it didn’t take any persuasion for me to shift my patronage from the independent marketers which were selling at much higher prices. The difference of N300 and above per litre provided the justification that was required, that is if I truly needed one. For me and many others seeking to survive a financially crippling situation, that meant waking up at unholy hours and reporting at the filling stations.
At the corner of my mind, I wished that access to NNPCL’s cheaper petrol would continue forever. But what on earth actually does? The full weight of the tempestuous climate in the downstream component of the oil sector dawned on me the first time I bought that most revered product after it was jerked up to a minimum of N855 per litre by NNPCL. I looked at the metre announcing N897 and earnestly wished that the new price wouldn’t impact much negatively on the volume of petrol in my car. It was one of those moments of indulging in clearly foolish thoughts while hoping for better outcomes. Thereafter, I became more introspective and empathetic in equal measure. With deep gratitude to the Almighty, I realised that I was more privileged than millions of my compatriots.
What most people in the country are faced with today defies logic. It’s easier to churn out statistics and analyses with familiar or unfamiliar origins. But the sordid human conditions produced by the bumpy official economic management especially in the past few months can’t seriously be quantified. This runaway, supersonic inflation has already rendered the naira more impotent than was imagined few years ago even by the most cynical and contemptuous of Nigerians and their foreign sympathisers.
The collateral effects of the government’s twin decisions of subsidy removal and the floating of the disadvantaged naira, in addition to having grave private implications, are directly related to the nation’s long-standing existential challenges. That makes the situation even more desperate and concerning. This point was publicly articulated last week by former Head of State, General AbdulsalamiAbubakar, in Minna as he reflected on the numbing hardship being experienced by the people. According to him, “Peace is the bedrock of any nation’s progress. Without peace, development is stifled, opportunities are lost, and society stagnates. Today, Nigeria faces numerous challenges that threaten the culture of peace we seek to cultivate. These challenges range from insurgency and terrorism to ethno-religious conflicts, youth unemployment, and economic instability. Poverty and unemployment are breeding grounds for violence and extremism.
“To build a peaceful Nigeria, we must tackle these roots. To build a peaceful Nigeria, we must tackle these root causes of instability through policies that promote inclusive growth, job creation, and equitable resource distribution. The task of building a peaceful society belongs to all of us. Every community, every leader, and every citizen have a role to play in ensuring that peace prevails. We must invest in our youth, empowering them with education and opportunities that steer them away from violence and unrest.
“We must engage in constructive conversations about the issues that divide us, from resource allocation to ethnic tensions. A commitment to justice, fairness, and inclusivity will help us address the grievances that have long fuelled conflicts in Nigeria.” Once personal peace in the lives of majority of the people is sufficiently undermined, corporate tranquillity and progress become instant victims.
Without doubt, the economies of many nations on the planet are facing tremendous pressures in varying degrees at present. This stark reality doesn’t diminish the pain of our own peculiarities, however. Now, no one has to be encouraged or cajoled to become a manager of his/her own resources. Like the way average Nigerian citizens transform themselves into football coaches anytime their national teams compete, the vicissitudes they have been grappling with have converted them to instant economists, accountants and book-keepers. Not to mention philosophers, metaphysicians and prayer warriors.
The Economist of September 11, 2024 ran an interesting op-ed on the troubling petrol-fouled environment titled, “If Nigeria Cannot End Fuel Shortages, Disaster Beckons.” It reads in part: “Cheap petrol is financed by a subsidy so vast that it squeezes all other public spending. The subsidy is not paid directly. Instead, the state-owned Nigerian National Petroleum Corporation (NNPC) swaps crude oil pumped in Nigeria for petrol refined abroad, then sells that petrol to the public at a big loss. That loss is deducted from the oil royalties the corporation is supposed to remit to the treasury. The system is corrupt and leaky; much of the cheap petrol is snaffled and smuggled abroad, though how much no one knows…
“Nigerians have long planned their lives around cheap fuel, so scrapping the subsidy would be both painful and unpopular. Many Nigerians see subsidised petrol as the only concrete benefit they receive from their government, rather than as a drain on revenues that could usefully be spent on other things… A price increment last week from 568 naira per litre to around 855 has sparked fury but done little to shrink the fuel queues, as it is still well below the market rate of over 1000 naira.” Fair comment, speaking broadly. But the repeated use of the word, cheap, to describe the market price of refined oil should be contextualised.
It simply can’t mean affordable here. It can only make sense in relation to international production and transportation costs and the pump rates elsewhere, including the country’s less endowed neighbours within the West African subregion. These are the facts government personalities love to throw around while dodging the more unnerving details that hinge on the snowballing incapacitation of the larger segment of the population. In a country with little or no safety nets for its teeming multidimensionally poor people, attempts to draw comparisons with other countries should be properly measured.
I’ve been thinking of the data rolled out the other day in Lagos by respected Nigerian economist and CEO of Financial Derivatives Company Limited, Mr Bismark Rewane. According to him, these latest increases in the prices of petrol would transfer five trillion naira from the purses of the long-suffering Nigerian consumers to government coffers; that the number of those who have succumbed to energy poverty would shoot up from 161 million last year to 168 million next year. And he also fears that the escalation of logistics costs and the further decline of consumer demands as a result of the unprecedented income squeeze “may instigate social unrest as citizens react in frustration.”
It should worry everybody that governments at various levels keep acting as if that prediction is alarmist. After all, threats of protests haven’t amounted to much in recent times. But the gathering storm won’t require any organised effort to explode. It’s intriguing and sometimes disturbing that apart from casually handing their matters to God, Nigerians indulge a lot in humour, even when confronted with tragedies.
One viral joke reads: “Oga President Tinubu, God go bless you ooo! I nor know say this government go favour me. One of your supporters sold his TV worth over 300k to me yesterday for 40k because food nor dey house. Mr president, please increase the fire because I de eye him deep freezer too. On your mandate we shall stand!” A sad satire on the country’s prevailing predicament. But how much longer would this form of escapism shield the citizenry from the damning consequences of this petrol-induced anomie?
